


Hey Sailor...

by Camfield



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mer AU, Siren Jesse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:17:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: Inspired by this image: http://weroblue.deviantart.com/art/Hey-Sailor-512417249





	Hey Sailor...

Jesse wasn't quite like the other sirens that plied song against the sailors. No, he was no delicate waif meant to entice anyone, instead thick with corded muscle, scarred with fights against sea and land creature alike. He didn't mind, he found his appeal was in those things. That the men he called were hardier, more open to his embrace because they were not afraid of what he represented. There were no stories, after all, of burly mermen calling sailors to their doom. 

The ship was docked outside of the cove he frequented, most of its crew ashore and stocking up with fresh water and fruit. Hunting of the rich meat that roamed wild, a veritable paradise within the desert of water they roamed on their wooden camel. This is where he surfaced, pulling himself up onto a rock shaped for him. By him. A perch he could call from, the low tones of his bass nearly rumbling vibrations across the water visible to the naked eye. Similar to a shanty, designed in cadence to pull rhythmically at hearts and minds, to ensnare with the thick of lust, rather then the tremulous soprano vibrato of higher emotions. He knew what he wanted. Sang for it. Grooming himself with shells and beads woven among hair until pointed ears pick up the unsteady gait of a man enthralled. Heavy footsteps, and he used arms glistening with sea water to pull himself up higher on his perch to see them. 

A gorgeous man, older, but not past his prime. Covered in the tattoos they all favored, scars of his own that criss-crossed along the dark skin and made his fingers itch to follow where they led. In his underthings, much to Jesse's amusement. Shorts that clung to his meat, curving around ass and groin like it was painted with the finest of lacquers, a shirt that barely held in anything, or hid it. It was enough to make his mouth water, his muscles flex in an unconscious effort to woo that which was already captured. 

For the moment. 

He let the song echo out, and perched himself both proudly and demurely among the water. Eyes gleaming, hoping the sailor would take the invitation for what it was. One finger raised up to beckon, and he watched as the dark head shook, eyes clearing to light on the thick merman within the waves. A hesitant step, and he looked around, but the beckoning finger wagged again and he stepped forward, one step, then another, until he was before Jesse. The merman reaching out to grasp his chin, bringing him in to smell the musk of earth that rolled off of all humans. Tempting to do so for hours, but the man wouldn't last that long, and Jesse couldn't keep him such either. Nuzzling in for the briefest of kisses, tangling facial hair to scratch and scrape until he's satisfied that the man isn't going to run off. He doesn't have the right words, none of them speak the same languages, but he croons out something that can only be taken as a pet name, the tone caressing ears once more.

"Darlin'."

There's a chuckle, and the sailor murmurs something back he doesn't understand, something similar in tone. It makes Jesse pull him closer to the rock, one hand sliding down his chest until it reaches the waistband of those shorts, lingering there as he raises his eyebrows, dipping down to cup the man in a wet, firm hand. Squeezing once, and when he finds it pressed more firmly against him, he grunts in delight. Sliding himself from that smooth perch to half swim, half drag himself towards a secluded area out of sight of the ship. Always looking over his shoulder in coy askance, though the man never falters in his steps. Pushing through water like a man possessed to reach where Jesse half beaches himself. Reaching for that striped tank and pulling the man down on top of him, flesh already quivering with delight for what would come. 

His hands delve into those shorts once more, pushing them down the curved muscle and once they're off, tossing them somewhere above his head, towards the shore. Making a sound of pleasure at the freed member, calloused skin closing around it in an exploring grip, fondling it until it's hard and ready. As eager as Jesse himself is.

The man seems lost, and though he can imagine why, it never fails to amuse him. He is not human, not where they meet, so men flounder. He doesn't expect a knowing touch along his muscles though. The pinch of pain as nipples are tweaked. It has him crooning out "Darlin'" again, and slowly guiding the man to his slit. Eyes curving with pleasure as his own cock is released and the sailor slides in all at the same time. Glorious, wonderful, and he inhales the musk of their joining with fingers curled and tail flopping. Urging his sailor on with grunts and low trills, the hair between them roughing along his cock until he's weeping. Calling out names in a dozen different languages as the man takes up his position in earnest. Slamming them into the sea and sand until he is tender and raw and clawing up under the tank top to give the man new marks along his shoulders and back. Until warmth blooms between them and Jesse arches in pure ecstasy, his voice shaking their bodies with vibration like the call of a whale would.

After, they lay there in combined satisfaction. Jesse petting through the man's hair and murmuring to him nonsense he knows won't be understood but feels good to say anyway. Fingers the plug in one ear and removes it with only the briefest protest from the sailor, only to trade him three glistening, pure pearls taken from his hair in return.

When they part, he is sore but sated. Pets along those brown thighs as the sailor retrieves his shorts, and nuzzles his groin once cheekily before he drags himself backwards into the water. Waiting for the man, who turns to look at him, then the shore in turn. Finally walking back to where he'd come from, and though Jesse expects such, he still feels the pang of disappointment when the sailor walks away. Sliding back to the deeper waters where he waits, head above the waves, until the man is safely among sand and comrades once more. Missing the look sent his way as he slips beneath the surface to swim for his bed.

Tomorrow, if they are still there... he might pay another visit...


End file.
